


Who we are now

by Mix Stitch (Synph)



Series: Holiday Friendship Fics [3]
Category: DCU (Comics), Outsiders (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Smooching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-04
Updated: 2014-12-04
Packaged: 2018-02-28 04:51:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2719352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Synph/pseuds/Mix%20Stitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They aren’t who they were and that’s okay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Who we are now

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cleromancy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cleromancy/gifts).



> For my dear and darling friend cleromancy who has helped me be a better person through our friendship (and tbh his general existence) and kisses his cats for me when I ask. Aaah!

Grace Choi works best under pressure.

As the head of her own hard-hitting superhero team of young adults, that means that she’s almost always under pressure and that she’s always pushing forward against it. She’s so different from the woman that she was five years ago (or the woman that she was even five  _minutes_  ago), that sometimes she doesn’t even recognize herself when she catches a glimpse of herself in the changing room mirror.

Grace leans in close to the mirror in front of the wide bank of sinks, peering at her reflection in the slightly tarnished glass. She still  _looks_  the same even if she doesn’t feel it, tall and broad and covered in even more tattoos than she was back when she was a bouncer. Her eyes are the same familiar green and despite Anissa’s attempts to tame it, her red hair still looks like a fiery halo.

But even if Grace doesn’t  _look_  different, she feels it. She does.

A knock on the door catches her attention and Grace looks over just in time to catch Anissa slipping into the changing room and shutting the door behind her. Grace watches Anissa’s fingers brush over the lock as if she wants to lock it, lock them in together, and when Anissa pulls away from it without doing it, Grace actually has to work to keep from asking her to do it.

"You look fine," Anissa says, a smile on her face. "No need to preen before the first official team meeting. The kids already know what you look like." The reinforced heels of her boots click noisily over the tile, but Grace doesn’t think she’s ever been more okay with a repetitive noise in her life.

Grace shifts, propping her hip up against the sink behind her.

"Only fine," she says with a flickering smile on her face. "I feel hurt." Grace doesn’t bother trying to fake a wounded look, grinning instead as Anissa rolls her eyes. She reaches for Anissa when her wife comes closer, fingers curling around Anissa’s right wrist and tugging just so.

After all their time together, it still amazes Grace how Anissa fits in Grace’s arms as if they were made for each other. Even though Grace has more than a foot on Anissa in height (even when she wears heels), they just fit together. Grace hums softly as Anissa presses close and lifts up onto the very tips of her toes so that she can brush a kiss over her cheek.

"You’re too tall," Anissa grumbles halfheartedly once she’s back to standing back on the ground. She flattens one hand against Grace’s stomach, manicured nails scratching over the skin left bare by her artfully destroyed tank top.

Grace actually feels her eyes cross at that touch. She bites her lip to keep from making noise, not knowing whether a whimper or an embarrassingly loud cackle will slip out of her mouth this time.

"You — you could wear higher heels, Nis," Grace points out. When she reaches for Anissa again, this time aiming for her hips underneath the loosely buttoned lab coat she wears while working in the building, Anissa dodges with a wide smile.

"And break my ankle trying to keep up with you in the field? No thank you!"

Anissa doesn’t rock back the next time that Grace grabs for her. She goes with a muffled squeak, fingers digging into Grace’s bare shoulders when her feet leave the ground and one of Grace’s large hands settles low on her back just above the waist of her uniform’s sleek pants.

"I’d nurse you back to health," Grace promises, her tone grave at first before amusement slips into her voice. She wiggles her eyebrows. "And I’d give you plenty of sponge baths."

"Pervert," Anissa says fondly.

So fondly in fact, that Grace just has to kiss her. Grace isn’t actually a huge sap most of the time, but standing with Anissa in her arms and just all but wound around her body leaves her nudging prime sap territory. They kiss tenderly for several long minutes until Grace isn’t actually sure that she wants to head out to the conference room to give a lecture.

Anissa, her beautiful voice of reason, pulls back from the kiss.

"We should go out there," Anissa says, her voice coming out sweet and thick like candy. She doesn’t actually make an attempt to move though. Not at first.  But then the communicator clipped onto her pants buzzes a warning tone against her skin and Grace’s arm and she frowns. "Next time, we’ll get someone else to handle the lecturing."

Reluctantly, Grace sets Anissa down on her feet.

"At least Roy didn’t send Lian in to get us again," Grace mutters. She stretches, back cracking audibly. "But I guess we should go out and get it over with. The sooner we can get the new kids ready to work with their mentors, the sooner we can get back here."

Anissa smiles. “Look at you, Grace,” she teases in a crooning purr that gets Grace straight in the gut. “All grown up and making good decisions.”

"Oh, shut up," Grace says, but she’s smiling too hard for Anissa to even  _think_ she’s being serious about it.


End file.
